


'Tis the Season For Waiting

by carolej126



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Childhood, Family, Gen, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:27:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4028509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolej126/pseuds/carolej126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally published in Road Trip With My Brother 7 (Agent With Style, 2008)</p><p>Christmas with the Winchesters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Tis the Season For Waiting

One

Sammy moved closer to the window, pressing his nose against the glass, and looked out into the night. He'd already looked more times than he could count, but he wanted to make sure that he hadn't missed anything important. 

Like the arrival of Santa Claus. 

The pajama-clad six-year-old knew Santa's sleigh usually landed on the roof, but since the house they were staying in didn't have a chimney, Santa would land in the yard and then enter by the front door.

At least that's what he thought. His teacher at school had said that Santa didn't need a chimney to deliver toys to all the good boys and girls, and since he was almost positive that he'd been good, or at least good enough, he fully expected the red-suited man to arrive at any time. And while he knew that he was supposed to be asleep for Santa to come, he thought he was fast enough to hide under the covers when Santa appeared.

He glanced at the clock. The glowing numbers read 257, but he wasn't quite sure what time that was. He knew his numbers, but telling time was something the first grader had just started working on, so the only thing he really knew was that it was way past his bedtime and that he was getting really, really sleepy.

Sammy scooted back to the window, resting his elbows on the windowsill, and checked again. Still nothing.

Behind him on the couch, Dean was busily stuffing chips into his mouth, his eyes glued to the TV screen. He wasn't sure what Dean was watching, having lost interest in watching TV a long time ago, but he suspected the show wasn't as exciting as Dean had hoped, because his brother kept getting up, making trips to the bathroom, retrieving more snacks from the kitchen, and joining Sammy at the window, only to gaze out into the night silently before going back to his seat.

He didn't think Dean was looking for Santa, though.

Their dad had been gone for three days, on a hunting trip. Sam wasn't sure what he was hunting this time, but he knew that it was important, important enough for their dad to miss Christmas Eve, and maybe even Christmas, because he had said so. And Dean had told him that, too.

Sammy had wanted to decorate their house for Christmas, so Dean had taken the snowflakes he'd made at school, and the paper chains that Sammy had brought home, and hung them from the curtain rods. And when Sammy had wanted a tree, Dean had taken care of that as well. Their Christmas tree was just an evergreen branch stuck in a dirt-filled coffee can, but Sammy thought it looked almost as good as the trees he'd seen on TV, especially with the sparkly glitter that Dean had borrowed from school and glued on its needles. 

He glanced over at his brother. He really wanted to ask Dean if their dad was going to be home soon, and if Santa was really going to come to their house, but he didn't. He knew he'd already asked both questions too many times, because Dean had snapped at him after the last time. His brother had apologized a few minutes later, but Dean still looked kind of sad, and he didn't think it was because he'd yelled at Sammy. 

Heaving a loud sigh, Sammy decided to check the front lawn one more time, even though he hadn't heard Santa's voice or the jingle of bells. Looking out into the night, he was disappointed to see that nothing had changed. There was still no sign of Santa, or his reindeer, or more importantly, a sleigh filled with toys. As he stood there, his head starting to droop and his eyes slipping to half-mast, he finally gave in and curled up on the couch next to Dean, unable to stay awake for a minute longer. As he fell asleep, he felt something soft and warm being placed over him.

"Dad?"

Sammy woke to the sound of Dean's surprised voice. Still half asleep, he watched as John came into the living room, shotgun in one hand and a large brown paper sack in the other. As his father placed the weapon against the wall, and handed the bag to Dean, Sammy untangled himself from the covers and rushed to hug his dad.

John's face was smudged with dirt, and there was a bruise on one cheek, but he laughed and swung the little boy into his arms.

"I stopped and picked up some breakfast," John said, "pancakes, bacon, eggs, how does that sound?"

"Sounds good," Dean answered, digging into the bag to remove the food.

"How 'bout you, Sammy?" John asked. "You ready for a real Christmas breakfast?"

His father's words reminded Sammy that it was Christmas, and he took a quick look around. There was no sign that Santa had ever been there, and he didn't see any presents. His lip trembling, he thought maybe he hadn't been good enough. 

"Sammy?" his dad repeated.

Sammy sniffed, rubbing at his eyes, but before he could respond, he heard Dean's voice behind him and turned to look at the other boy.

In the midst of unpacking the food, Dean had frozen in place, holding a festively wrapped box in each hand. His gaze swung questioningly between the gifts and his dad. "Dad?" he repeated.

"Oh, I almost forgot about those," John started. "I ran into someone last night, on my way home. Red suit, white beard, kept saying 'ho, ho, ho.'"

"Santa," Sam whispered almost reverently. 

John nodded. "Coulda' been."

"Anyway, he said he was running late and asked if I'd mind dropping these off. Maybe you should check the names on the tags."

Sammy ran to Dean as the older boy held out both of the gifts. "Dean, look!" he said excitedly, his eyes shining. "That's my name." He quickly checked the other present. "And that one's for you!"

Dean looked surprised for a moment, and then he started to grin. Sammy didn't think it was because of the present, though, because Dean wasn't even looking at his gift. He was looking at their dad. 

It didn't matter to Sam, though, because he was just glad that Dean was happy again. 

"Well, what are you waiting for? Open them," John directed, watching the boys with a smile.

Sammy didn't waste any time before ripping off the wrapping paper, his brother following suit beside him.

 

Two

The clanging sound of the dismissal bell was still echoing faintly when Sam pushed open the door and looked around for Dean. He'd hurried past friends and classmates, not wanting to be late, and now, when he didn't immediately spot his brother, he took a seat on the steps.

The high school that Dean attended shared the same campus with the junior high, so it usually didn't take him more than a couple minutes to make his way down the sidewalk to pick his younger brother up, but there was no sign of him today.

Sam received a few friendly waves, more than one questioning look, an invitation to ride home with a friend, and one not-so-nicely stated suggestion that he get out of the way, as he waited. Thinking that suggestion was probably a good idea after being bumped into several times by the excited kids departing school for the beginning of the Christmas break, he moved to a spot as far to the right as he could get without falling off the edge.

It was a little chillier than he'd expected, even though it was almost the end of December, so he pulled the collar of his jacket up around his ears and tucked his hands into his pockets for warmth.

Snow was forecast for the weekend, and the main topic of conversation amongst the students had been whether or not they would have enough snow over the holidays to participate in the winter sports that were so popular in this part of the country.

Sam didn't care one way or the other. He expected to spend his holiday break helping out with the hunt that his father had been planning for the past few days, and while he didn't always enjoy trudging through the snow, certain types of supernatural creatures were easier to track in the winter.

The big yellow buses pulled out into the street, filled to capacity, and the car-pool parents quickly picked up their riders, leaving only a few children waiting near the curb. Most of them didn't have to wait more than a minute or two, though, and were soon picked up and on their way home as well. 

After a few more minutes went by with no sign of his brother, Sam eyed his watch. The house they were currently renting was only a few blocks away, within walking distance, and Sam couldn't help but wish he could join the parade of kids that were chatting, laughing and joking as they made their way down the street, heading for home. He was old enough to walk home by himself, or with his friends, but their father had made it quite clear that he was to wait for Dean, and Dean never let him forget, reminding him each and every morning that he was to wait in front of the school until Dean arrived. His dad had checked the route his sons would be taking each day, to and from school, and it had looked safe, but Sam knew what could be out there, hidden in the shadows to even someone as good of a hunter as his dad, so he didn't complain. 

And he actually enjoyed walking home with Dean, his brother alternately teasing him and ruffling his hair, and talking to him about school, his friends, that night's homework, and even girls.

Sam checked the sidewalk once again, sighing when he realized that Dean still hadn't made an appearance. For a brief moment, he wondered if his brother had decided to meet his new girlfriend, Allie, after school, forgetting that Sam would be waiting. 

He shook his head. While Dean sometimes did some stupid things when it came to girls, he was very responsible when it came to his little brother. 

Dean had been a little late a few times before, when he'd been required to stay after school to turn in a late paper or talk to a teacher, but he'd always shown up within a few minutes of dismissal time.

Sam heaved another sigh, but with nothing else to do, he decided to make himself comfortable. Pulling a dog-eared paperback book out of his backpack, he moved back a little so he could put the brick wall at his back and settled in to read. The book was one he'd been enjoying, but right now, he just couldn't keep his mind on the plot, and it didn't help that he was looking around for his brother every few minutes.

The slow trickle of passing students had slowed to a stop, and when Sam realized that a few teachers were now making their way to the staff parking lot, he checked his watch again. Dean was now almost forty-five minutes late.

An uneasy feeling started to take residence in the pit of his stomach. Dean had never been this late before. Sam took a deep breath, considering his options. He could go back inside the school and ask to use the phone, and then try to call Dean's school, but he suspected no one would be answering the phone this long after school had been dismissed. He could try to get ahold of their dad, although that would be, in reality, an impractical choice, as the man had been on a hunt in the next county for the last two days, and wasn't really close enough to be of any immediate aid. 

There was another option, Sam knew. He could go looking for his brother himself. 

Against his father's clear instructions.

Sam thought for a moment, and then decided he had no choice. Dean might be in trouble, or hurt, or facing some kind of supernatural being without backup even as he stood there and waited. 

And that wasn't acceptable.

Stuffing his book into his backpack, Sam started to get to his feet, just as he heard his name yelled in a familiar but fear-laced voice. 

"Sammy?!" Dean shouted again, this time even louder.

As Sam started down the steps, he finally saw Dean approaching. His brother was running full-out as he came toward the school.

"Right here, Dean," Sam called. He moved forward to join his brother, and as he did, Dean's frantic pace slowed to a more familiar swaggering walk, and Dean grinned at him. 

Sam shook his head in fond exasperation. "Where were you?"

"Detention," Dean explained breathlessly as he reached out to tousle Sam's long hair.

"Again? Sam laughed. "What did you do this time?"

Dean just rolled his eyes, a smirk on his face. 

"Come on, Dean, tell me!"

"I'll tell you on the way home," Dean promised, wrapping his arm around Sam's shoulders and pulling him close. "Okay?" 

"Okay," Sam agreed. Setting off down the sidewalk and toward home, he quickly found himself the target of Dean's teasing. But Sam didn't mind, simply laughing off Dean's insults and squirming away from his tickling fingers. Because he could still remember the relief he'd seen on Dean's face when he'd spied Sam waiting, safe and sound. 

 

Three

Sam shifted his position in the barely-padded chair that was pulled up close to Dean's bed, keeping watch over his brother. 

Bruises lined the side of Dean's face, his right eye was nearly swollen shut, there was a lump nearly the size of a golf ball on the back of his head, and the blanket covering him hid a multitude of additional cuts and bruises, but his brother was dead to the world, sleeping soundly despite his recently acquired injuries.

Knocked into a tree not once but twice during their hunt for a shapeshifting feline, and then going one-on-one with the creature in an attempt to protect his younger brother, Dean had lost consciousness long enough to worry Sam. And while the injuries weren't severe enough for a hospital stay - not that Dean would have permitted that anyway - Sam had lugged his brother to the Impala, driven him back to their motel room, and applied holy water, ice, and antibiotic cream as needed.

Dean had mumbled a few of his usual complaints and meaningless threats upon finding Sam taking care of him, swallowed the offered Tylenol, and then fell back asleep. Sam knew that Dean would be fine, if a little tired and achy for a couple days, but he was still anxious for his brother to wake up, complain a few more times, and get things back to normal. 

Sam looked up as Dean shifted in his bed, letting out a small, pained sound. Leaning forward, he watched closely, but Dean only grimaced slightly before settling back to sleep with a faint sigh.

Sam matched it with a sigh of his own. When several minutes passed without Dean showing any other signs of waking up, he looked around their small motel room. Dean had lifted an eyebrow at the sight of Sam carrying in a tiny pre-decorated Christmas tree a few days before, but when he hadn't said anything beyond a few teasing comparisons to Charlie Brown's well-known and extremely sad-looking tree, Sam knew that he hadn't minded. And more than that, while he hadn't actually confessed that he was enjoying the little holiday touch, Sam had seen his brother smile at the sight of the twinkling miniature multi-colored lights more than once, so Sam was glad he'd made the effort.

Studying the tree for a moment, Sam's mind went back in time to an even smaller tree, one made of a simple, single evergreen branch. In most people's eyes, that tree would have been an embarrassment, but Sam knew better. 

It had been cut, planted, and decorated with love.

Sam smiled. While he hadn't actually done anything besides buy the little fake tree, he had certainly been driven by the same emotion. 

"Sammy?"

Sam jumped quickly to his feet, leaning over the bed so Dean would be able to see him easier with his one good eye. "I'm right here."

Dean peered at him, squinting in such a way that revealed both his headache and the fuzziness of his vision. "You 'kay?"

"I'm fine," Sam reassured, returning Dean's assessing look with a grin. "And because of that hard head of yours, you will be, too."

In that moment, as Dean gave him a faint smile and a careful nod, Sam realized that it didn't really matter if they had the sparkling tree that currently resided in their motel room, or the coffee-can supported branch of his childhood. Either one would have done. Or none at all. Because in the end, all that mattered was that they were together.

 

Four

Sam huffed a sigh, glancing over the items in the shopping cart he had pushed up to the checkout area, and then searched behind him again, looking for Dean.

The two had split up, Sam heading for the first aid section of the store to replenish their supplies, Dean striding off toward the snack foods. He'd expected Dean to meet him at the front of the store within minutes, but ten minutes after arriving, there was still no sign of his brother.

In retrospect, Sam thought, he should have insisted they switch tasks. While Dean was perfectly capable of picking out a variety of snack foods to tide them over until they reached the next town, he was also liable to choose sugar-filled items that Sam would have no interest in. 

The store was filled with last-minute shoppers, all searching for that perfect Christmas present, and most without success. With the department stores now closed for the holiday, and most people home with their families, only a few convenience stores were open, providing a limited selection of items that could be even remotely considered appropriate as a gift. 

Sam snickered as an overflowing cart passed him, filled to the brim with paper products, wondering just how happy the recipients would be upon receiving a twelve-pack of toilet paper.

His grin hadn't quite vanished when an older man went by, clutching a case of AAA batteries close to his chest, followed closely by a harried-looking woman with two children in tow, each carrying an assortment of automotive supplies.

Sam shook his head. He and Dean hadn't discussed exchanging gifts. And because his brother had shrugged him off when any holiday suggestions had been made, Sam hadn't pushed. But he hadn't given up either. And the night before, when Sam had mentioned stopping for a real Christmas dinner, Dean had shown some interest.

So Sam had decided that, as soon as they got up in the morning, they would look for a restaurant serving a fancy holiday meal. And if Sam happened to show up with a gift for his brother, then Dean would just have to accept the sentimental gesture. 

Despite how much he'd chafe at the whole idea. 

"Yo, Sammy!"

Sam swung around at the sound of Dean's voice. His brother was jauntily approaching with a cart of his own, the bottom filled with a multitude of snack foods - most of them acceptable in Sam's eyes, he was surprised to note - and munching on a candy cane.

If Sam listened closely, he could even hear Dean humming the tune to 'Jingle Bells' just under his breath. That brought a smile to Sam's face. Dean had protested every time Sam had tried to find a radio station playing Christmas music, instead popping one of his outdated cassette tapes into the tape player and cranking up the volume. It seemed now that the tinny music being piped through the store's speakers in an attempt to raise spirits and increase spending had affected even him.

Or, just maybe, it had been something else, like having a brother to spend the holiday with. 

"Ready to check out?" Sam asked. At Dean's nod, he pushed the first cart up to the register, followed closely by Dean.

Sam didn't say anything about the gift bag that Dean was holding in one hand, but then again, he wasn't about to mention the similarly wrapped item tucked into his jacket pocket, either.

~end~


End file.
